


Fuzz

by FireEye



Category: Saints Row
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6628744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SR2.  If you're the leader of a gang and have the opportunity to dress up like a cop for television, it might be best to let someone know where you're going so you don't run into your own people in the street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuzz

The corner sidewalk was a clash of blue and purple, each wave crashing hard against the other in a vain attempt at gaining ground and forcing the opposing side back. With reinforcements bolstering both sides, the war spilled down into the street.

“Oh, _shit_.”

A hand clamped down on the car door beside hers, boxing her in between the metal frame and the man that had come up behind her. A shock of ice slithered down her spine, fire roiling in her belly as her instincts braced her for a fight she didn’t have the fortitude to win, and she tamped it down by sheer force of will.

If she looked up, she’d never live it down. If he didn’t recognize her, _not_ looking up was tantamount to suicide.

The brief moment of hesitation forced the decision from her hands. Rather than crush her throat, he tapped the underside of her cap, flipping it clean off her head. It hit the car door and flopped to the ground.

All at once, the air forced itself from her lungs.

“The fuck is this?” He pinched the cloth at her shoulder. Sucking in a breath to replace the one she’d lost, Faith squirmed about to face him, and it took her two attempts at flicking her gaze upward for it to stick. “Jacking squadcars is one thing, the _fuck_ are you _wearing_?”

“What are you doing here?”

Any authority behind the words were lost on him. Nevertheless, Johnny cast a leisurely glance at the melee free-for-all across the street and back, letting the unvoiced emphasis soak in. “Babysittin’.”

“Why,” he pressed her again, “are you all dressed up like a fucking cop?”

There was a small sound in her throat; a minimal protest that earned her no quarter. Gat rapped his fingers along the roof of the car beside her ear, and stared down at her expectantly.

“Someone’s... asked me to stir up a scandal in the PD.” It had seemed enticingly simple at the time. Now, explaining it, it made her feel foolish. “And since I’m purportedly the spitting image of some cop on the force who needed an understudy.... Two birds, one stone.”

“ _Huh_.” Johnny scratched an itch along his jaw. “You get to keep the uniform?”

Faith’s mouth moved around a word that didn’t exist. Having been braced for a completely different line of conversation, she angled her head to peer up at him from the corner of her eye.

“I... never thought to ask?”

“How about the handcuffs?”

“I would think you should know better than to trust me with handcuffs.”

“Hey, you’ve grown up since then.” He swept his gaze down as though gauging said growth, and his resolution may have wavered. “A little bit.”

Faith squared her shoulders to argue-...

“You know _Johnny Gat_?”

“...um.”

“Biblically.”

She had forgotten about the cameraman.

Other than a momentarily bemused grin, Johnny took the interruption in stride. One hand snaked its way around her waist, tugging her shirt free of where it was tucked and slipping down further. His fingernails scraped lightly against her skin, evoking a sharp gasp.

“ _Yeah_ , excuse us a moment, will you....”

As she spoke, Faith dug Johnny’s fingers out from under the waistband of the borrowed uniform and grabbed for the collar of his jacket, twisting towards him so as to gain a bare modicum of privacy. Undeterred, Johnny pinched her where his hand settled on her hip, and she glowered at his near silent chuckle.

“What are you doing and why must you be doing it in front of a _fucking camera_.”

“You really want to nail this bitch?” Gat leaned in closer, and Faith turned her head towards his breath where it tickled her ear. “Think about it... nothing destroys a career faster than evidence of a turgid, illicit romance.”

“Torrid,” she corrected, on reflex, as she half-leaned, half-pushed him back to look up at him.

“Hm?”

“ _Torrid_ romance.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure I meant _turgid_.”

Faith blinked at him, then shook her head, weighed down by sheer incredulity.

“Right,” she said, meeting his expression with a tight, wry smile. “You’re a big boy; far be it from me to tell you whether you’re allowed to whip your dick around on primetime television.”

His shark’s grin vanished. Johnny crooked an elbow around the back of her head as the car crunched and shuddered beside them. Faith peered back over his arm, eyes widening at the damage.

There was a _sledgehammer_ lodged in the hood of the patrol car. The impact had cracked and shattered parts of the windshield, with enough force to shake the entire vehicle. There was far less blue along the street than there had been a moment ago.

Faith swallowed. Slapping her shoulder, Johnny nudged her past him towards the open street. “I’m thinkin’ that’s your cue to start runnin’.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Faith accused, spinning back to face him. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “You’re not going to lift a finger to help me.”

“ _Nope_.” There was a hint of laughter in his voice. “Catch you back home.”

Faith scoffed.

With luck, she’d survive that long.

Turning on her toes, she launched into a run.

The cameraman didn’t seem to have taken the hint. As Faith gained speed, Johnny’s voice trailed after her, painting the vivid image in her head.

“Hey, you want to keep breathing? _Scram_.”

She didn’t have the breath to laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> -Based on a True (Gameplay) Story.  
> -This has been kicking around in pieces on my harddrive for almost two years now I suppose I ought to publish it at last.


End file.
